


...Ouch

by Hollenka99



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: And the ending turns out differently, Based on a Warfstache Interviews Markiplier, But it's Jack instead, Egotober 2018, Gen, Minor Injuries, Stabbing, treating minor injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 02:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16187822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollenka99/pseuds/Hollenka99
Summary: When Mark suggested he let Wilford Warfstache interview him, Jack didn't think it would end up like this. One thing's for sure, he's not listening to Mark's ideas again.Based on a-heist-of-words' Egoctober 2018 prompt, "...ouch..." and Warfstache Interviews Markiplier.





	...Ouch

The studio audience cheered appropriately as the title card played. It looked like a good turn out, maybe 90% of the seats were filled. Mark was there too, somewhere. Jack was interested to see what kind of questions this Warfstache guy was going to ask him. Mark had mentioned the reporter to Jack several months ago. He explained the man was always looking for someone new to question. He guaranteed the interview would be memorable. That was to be seen.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and of course, all other configurations of being. My name is Wilford Warfstache and boy, do we have a great guest for you tonight. Some call him the worst Irishman, some call him a leprechaun, most people just call him Green Pewdiepie... please welcome Mr Jacksepticeye!"

Um, okay. Weird introduction but whatever. Mark did say Wilford Warfstache was eccentric.

"Welcome sir."  
"Hi." He gave the audience a little wave.  
"Our producer couldn't find another way to boost our ratings." Right then... "So, you play video games for a living?"  
"Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that. It's a pretty cool job to have."  
"Now what exactly is it that you do while playing these treacherous virtual brain dumpsters?"  
"Well, I wouldn't call them brain dumpsters." He gives a small laugh. "I basically record myself playing a game, do a little commentating and post it to YouTube. We're called Let's Players; there's quite a few of us on YouTube."  
"So you commentate?"  
"Yeah."  
"So what is it exactly that you, Jacksepticeye, commentate?"  
"Video games. People come to my channel to watch me react to the game I'm playing that video."  
"Ooh!" Warfstache encouraged the audience to have a similar response. "Reaction to what?"

He was going to kill Mark.

"Video. Games." He tried not to sound like a dick, he swore he did.  
His interviewer's reaction was unintelligible. "And now on to the nitty-gritty!"  
That was more like it. Maybe this interview had just started off weak. "Hell yeah."  
"Now what games would you say have been the biggest draw to your channel?"  
"Oh, that's easy. Yeah, everyone seems to love my videos on Skate 3, Grand Theft Auto... Happy Wheels is a big one too." The crowd cheered at the mention of Happy Wheels. "Yeah! Screw you, Billy." He joked.  
"So which one of these games would you say is your favourite?"  
"You know, I get asked this all the time and I still can't choose. Um..." The boom operator lost their grip. It went right into his mouth.

Mark was dead. Jack was never listening to his suggestions again.

"Boy, you got a lot of fans." But... he wasn't quite done answering the last question. Never mind, he didn't have a solid answer anyway. The sooner this interview was over, the sooner he could return to bitching about Irish showers.  
"Yeah, over 6 million subscribers. It's crazy how many people want to watch my content."  
"That is baffling!"  
"I feel the same. But I'm thankful for every last one. If it wasn't for them, I'd still be stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere by myself. I've also gotten to know some awesome people because of it."  
"Anyway, have you ever met any of these 'fans'?"  
"All the time! I just came back from PAX West and there were a whole bunch of them. You get to meet a lot at conventions but a few will spot you in the street. They're all really sweet so I-"

"Murder their entire family?"  
Where the hell did that come from? "What?! No! No, of course I don't."  
"So you admit it!" Warfstache accused. "You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen. The Jacksepticeye has just admitted to never murdering anyone."  
"I... yeah, I never murdered anyone." Jack scanned the audience to see if they were hallucinating the same ludicrous bullshit he was. "Look, this is going in a really weird direction. Can we go back to normal questions?"  
"Sounds like someone's getting impatient."  
"Dude, you literally just accused me of murder. I only agreed to this interview because I was told it would be different. I don't know why Mark ever recommended you. I think you might be-"

Warfstache pulled a tiny dagger from his trousers. Yeah, the guy was clearly insane. Was that Jack's cue to get the hell out of here? Yes, it certainly sounded like it. Very distinct sirens of 'Get the fuck away from this madman' were blaring.

The blade barely missed him during Warfstache's first attempt to stab him. He leaped out of the chair. A moving target was less likely to be killed than a seated one. That didn't stop the reporter from drawing closer.

Jack didn't even know what he was doing. Once his survival instincts kicked in, everything was on autopilot. So how the hell the scuffle ended with Warfstache bleeding and him holding the knife would forever remain a mystery. He'd stabbed someone. Oh God, he was going to be responsible for someone's death.

"...Ouch." Wilford looked annoyed. Why was he annoyed? The guy had just been stabbed in the gut. He was bleeding. Why was he just standing there? Why was he acting like it was nothing?

Somebody grabbed him. They didn't wait for his mind to catch up with his involuntarily steps. His other arm hurt.

"Okay, that should be far enough." The member of security halted by an exit. "Are you injured?"  
"Uh..." Jack's sleeve was turning red. Oh shit.  
"Doesn't look deep but we should get you a bandage or two."  
"Sure." Honestly, he was ready to switch his brain off for a while.  
"Yeah, we've got a Code Pink. The guest doesn't appear to be in immediate danger but keep an eye on Warfstache. I'm taking the guest to the infirmary to treat his arm. Update me if anything happens." The guard spoke into a walkie-talkie. The walk to the infirmary was much gentler.  
"Does this happen often if you have a code for it?"  
"He's not the most stable individual. I heard he shot someone off the first floor once."

His brain was resembling a dial-up. Who allowed a murderer to host his own program? Why wasn't he locked up?

Disinfecting the slash on his arm stung. Although, it was better to wince than lose it to an infection. Now his arm was being treated, he could relax slightly. The maniac reporter still lingered in his mind.

"Will Warfstache be okay? I mean, I did stab him."  
"That guy? Oh yeah, you'd think he was invincible the way he brushes off injuries. He's something else, I'm telling you."  
"You can say that again. Still..."  
"Trust me, he will be back in action within 24 hours. You don't need to go all Lady Macbeth."

A half Korean man frantically burst into the infirmary. He scanned the room erratically before catching sight of the Irishman with recently dyed green hair. Jack was pissed and Mark leaked anxiety.

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you. Did he get you?" Mark's eyes landing on his friend's bandaged arm was a sufficient answer.  
"We need to talk." Jack glared.


End file.
